


Rest in Pieces

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Canon divergence of sorts, Established Relationship, Goodbye-sex, M/M, Open Ending, Slight AU I suppose?, Smut, Unhappy Ending, breaking up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:43:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6445186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>In the back of your car, on the way to your home, in the pouring rain, on the side of the road—</i>
  <br/>
  <i>In the light of the street, in the recline of the seat—</i>
  <br/>
  <i>You told me I should move on.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rest in Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the song [r.i.p. by 3oh!3](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4e4qsTr22XQ). decided i needed to write some unresolved angst for these two, because why not. 
> 
> takes place before the particle accelerator explosion and exists in a verse where cisco and hartley started up a fuckbuddy relationship during their time together. 
> 
> not beta'd. enjoy!

Hartley gasps into Cisco’s mouth and grips his hair tighter.

Cisco’s hips roll, fast and even, and the car rocks with their motions. His own hands are gripping tight enough to bruise Hartley’s hips, and his nails are digging crescent-shaped welts into the skin.

Hartley’s legs are cramping from the position they’re in—the backseat is way too small to be doing this, every few thrusts Hartley hits his head against the roof of the car—and his back is starting to ache. His eyes are watering but he can’t place exactly why. There are too many reasons he might cry tonight and he doesn’t want to think about a single one.

Cisco moans and moves one hand from Hartley’s waist to his cock. He thrusts deeper inside and matches the pace of his hand to his hips. He stares at Hartley with heavy, dilated eyes, and his breath feels chilled in the heat of the car.

Doors and windows shut, they’ve been at this for far longer than necessary. The air around them is burning hot and sticks to their skin like a burning reminder of what they’re up to. The windows are fogged and Hartley had, at the start, traced his fingertips through the fog with a laugh. Now, the trails of his touch are almost completely fogged over again and it hurts, in some odd way.

Cisco nipping at his jaw returns Hartley’s attention to the task at hand. It’s not that the sex isn’t good, not that at all. Hartley’s mind is just heavy with unsaid things and the thoughts won’t leave him alone. He does his best to lose himself in Cisco’s touch, and it works for the most part. Hartley closes his eyes, kisses Cisco, and focuses on nothing but the taste and feel of the other.

He doesn’t focus on having been fired earlier today, and how Cisco doesn’t know yet. He doesn’t focus on the fact that the particle accelerator will explode, and how Cisco doesn’t know _that_ yet either. He doesn’t focus on the train tickets he bought because the thought of staying in Central City makes him sick to his stomach.

Or, at least, he tries not to focus on those things. It doesn’t really work.

He barely realizes he’s coming, doesn’t really acknowledge it until Cisco is coming inside him too.

Distantly, Hartley knows their stomachs are messy with his come, but he hadn’t felt the burn of pleasure or the unwinding sense of release. He keeps his head buried against Cisco’s neck to hide the fact he doesn’t know how to feel.

Cisco’s hands move as a comforting, soft pressure along Hartley’s back until his afterglow fades. Even as Cisco’s breathing evens out, neither makes a point to move. Hartley feels frozen solid with fear, whereas Cisco is content to stay close to Hartley. Cisco doesn’t know what’s coming, and the thought of going forward has Hartley’s heart thumping like a jackrabbit.

The rain crashes down against the windows and were it any other time or place, the rhythm might feel comforting. Instead, it only feels daunting, like some gruesome soundtrack nature is providing to the next hardest moment of Hartley’s life. He’s dealt with rejection plenty of times, dealt with it just this morning when Harrison Wells fired him. He’s plenty used to that. Hartley hasn’t ever been the one doling out the pain, though, not like this.

“Hart?” Cisco’s voice cuts through the mounting tension.

Hartley raises his head but doesn’t look at Cisco. Instead, he stares at the window, at his nearly invisible fingerprints, at the lights of Central City shining in the distance.

“Hartley?”

“We’ve got to stop.” Hartley murmurs. “This has to stop.” He speaks slowly and carefully to keep his voice from shaking. He feels like the worst kind of asshole: they’re still naked and wrapped up in one another and here he is breaking up with Cisco. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning.” Hartley adds, as though that will make his decision to end this any more solid. The second the words are out of his mouth, he wants to take them all back. He wants to rewind a few moments and stop himself.

He can’t, though. Now, the only way out is through.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

It’s a complete lie but Cisco doesn’t call him on it. Cisco seems quelled into silence by shock.

“You need to move on.” Hartley finally drags his eyes back to Cisco and tries not to give into the shattered expression staring back. He’s come this far, he needs to barrel onward. So Hartley shifts, rises up just enough to let Cisco slide out of him, and then starts to dress as best he can.

When Cisco starts to reach for him with desperate hands, Hartley takes his redressing to the outside. He’s soaked the minute the door opens but Cisco doesn’t follow. Cisco stays seated, stays naked, while Hartley gets dressed in the pouring rain. A chill sets deep in Hartley’s bones but he ignores it. He yanks on his clothes without looking back at Cisco.

Hartley is fully dressed when he finally spares Cisco another glance.

Cisco is still staring right back, shocked and unmoving.

Hartley reaches into the car to grab his coat and cellphone and barely resists the urge to kiss Cisco a final time. As the rain seeps into his jacket, too, Hartley allows himself a moment to stare. He takes in the lines of Cisco’s body and commits them to memory. He burns Cisco’s betrayed expression into his mind so that he’ll always remember the churning guilt he feels in this moment. Hartley pushes his glasses up his nose.

“Goodbye, Cisco.” He doesn’t shut the door, but he does walk away. Rain be damned, Hartley knows he can’t exactly ask Cisco for a ride home now. He feels uncomfortable with come staining his body and with guilt swirling like acid in his gut. He doesn’t turn back, though.

He’s twenty feet out when he hears the car door slam shut.


End file.
